In Which McGonagall Kills Bellatrix, Guest Starrin
by BellaPur
Summary: Slap stick companion piece to my serious story Black Roses. But can definitely be read alone. Warning, the author ingested more sugar than is sensible before writing this. Because Neville NEEDS his sob story!


**Dedicated to Emma, without whom this travesty would have remained safely in my brain where it belongs =D**

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**In Which McGonagall Kills Bellatrix, Guest Starring Neville.**

Thump

Thump

Thump

That, dear readers is the sound of our heroine, whom we love and worship, Bellatrix Black's eleven year old head hitting a stone staircase repeatedly.

"Argh! Get off you stupid Scottish bitch!"

"I'll teach you to teach me you wee Death Eating whore!"

Bella raises her head to stare confusedly (which I have decided is a real word. Oh look, spellcheck agrees! Good.) at the afore mentioned Scottish bitch, who is currently dragging her by the ankle towards the Mwa ha ha torture chamber of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Named after that famous Dark Wizard, and epic lover, Bob Mwa ha ha.

"Um... I'm only eleven. I don't know what a Death Eater is yet."

"Oh... Right."

"Actually Voldemort hasn't really gained any power yet so no-ones really heard of the Death Eaters yet."

"Crap. How the hell am I supposed to justify killing you then?"

At this our star shrugs her graceful shoulders. Or tries to. It's kinda hard to shrug your shoulders when you're being dragged down a flight of stairs.

"Well, I'll think of something."

Professor McGonagall unceremoniously dumps our Darling in a pile, as she reaches the entrance to their destination, and begins to search for the key that will open the heavily barred door of the Mwa ha ha Chamber.

Being the kindly natured and considerate girl she is, Bella at once points her wand at the door.

"Alohamora."

"Oh right. Witch. Magic powers. Duh!"

"Yeah..."

To alleviate the awkwardness of the situation Bella takes aim at a passing cat and gives it an almighty kick.

"Whoooooooo! Ten points!" cries McGonagall as the random cat hits the wall, with a delightful crunch. "Now where were we?"

"I believe you had my left ankle in a death grip, and were dragging me to this room, with the intention of torturing, maiming and possibly murdering me," our beloved Bella informs her most helpfully.

"Ah yes. Your left or my left?"

"My left."

"Jolly good."

Thump

Bella's head hits the floor once more.

They move into the room, filled with various torture-y things. Thumbscrews, racks, iron-maidens, all that jazz. Oh and a conveniently placed machine gun. Because muggle-ish or not, conveniently placed machine guns are fun.

"Soooooo..." McGonagall begins. "This is the Mwa ha ha Torture Chamber."

"It's nice." Bella says politely as she takes a seat on the nearest rack. "I like the decor."

"Yeah we re-decorated recently. Severus chose the colours."

"Who's Severus?"

"Oh right he's not a teacher yet! He's only, what, three years old at this stage. Geez, someone should tell the author to stop dicking about with the time line."

They both glare at me. I make a "What?" face at them.

"Anyhoo," Bella continues, "I like the various knives lining the wall. They're very tasteful."

"Yeah." McGonagall grins a fond grin, that is so often seen on the faces of those who are reliving pleasant memories. "Good times."

"So..?" Bella inquires, "Are you going to torture me first or just kill me painfully?"

"Well..." McGonagall chews her lip thoughtfully. "I was gonna go for torture, but I'm a bit peckish at the mo. And I just don't believe in blatant sadism on an empty stomach. Would you like a Ginger Newt?"

"Um... No thank you," Bella politely declines.

McGonagall's eyes darken. "Wrong answer."

Biscuits appear from no where. Thousands upon thousands of them drop from a tartan biscuit tin that appears overhead, straight onto the poor abused head of our sweet, darling Bella.

McGonagall dances round the growing mountain of bickies scream- my apologies, _sing_ing in a delightful tone that brings joy to the heart. Joy so strong is has the power to awaken the dead.

"I'm not dead! I just haven't been born yet!"

"Shut up Neville! I haven't written you into the story yet!"

As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, mountain of bickies, mad Scottish tart, Bella about to die biscuit-induced death. Oh yeah, the Ginger newts are about to crush her when...

"Neville! Get out there!"

"But you said-"

"I don't care what I said! Just go! Go go GO!"

"It takes a really messed up author to argue with her own characters."

"You're not mine, you're Jk's. I'm just borrowing you. Like I borrowed this cattle prod. Not get!"

Let's try this again...

The Ginger newts are about to crush her when...

"Stop!"

"Gasp!"

"Gasp!"

"Gasp!"

"Ok, you're the author dickwad. There's no need for you to "Gasp" too," Neville says angrily.

I wave the cattle prod in front of his face threateningly. He sighs and returns to the plot, like a good fictional character.

"Yes! It is I, Neville Longbottom."

"Who the hell are you? And why did you just suddenly appear?" Bella asks, her question muffled by about three tonnes of biscuits.

"Well, I just told you who I am. In a rather impressive heroic voice. And I appeared for the same reason everything else here is happening. Some idiot gave a sixteen year old girl a pile of sugar and a laptop."

"That would explain the conveniently placed machine gun. And why I, an extreme-pureblood-anti-muggle-maniac-to-be, know what a machine gun is."

"Indeed."

"If I may interject?" McGonagall interjects. "Did you want to speak to one of us or can it wait 'til after I've killed her?"

"Nooooooooooooooo!" Neville shrieks. "That's why I'm here! You can't kill her! She tortures my parents to insanity in about eighteen years, give or take."

"Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight..." McGonagall remains unconvinced, while our heroine whoops.

"Older me sounds awesome."

"Yeah you're pretty cool." Neville offers. "You should see some of the fanfics people write about you."

"Moi?"

"Yup. Apparently some people like homicidal nut jobs.

I, the author, grin maniacally.

"Yeah anyway, once my parents are shut up in the nut house, my overly strict, bordering on verbally abusive Grandmother raises me..."

"Seriously, you don't want me to kill her?"

"And your sexy-as nephew bullies me every day of my school career."

"Really. One little spell is all it'll take-"

"And in short my life is miserable."

"Draco is quite sexy isn't he. And you're sure you don't want me to kill her?"

"Hell no! That sob story is all I got going for me! Without it I'm just a wimpy little fat kid with a toad."

" Awk you poor wee thing!" McGonagall cries. "If only I could control my blood lust I could help you!"

With out further ado she grabs the conveniently placed machine gun and peppers Bella with bullets.

"Argh! With my last breath I say Ralph Fiennes is a sexy !"

"Aw crap!" states Neville as he fades like a ghost and goes back to his new mediocre future, filled with love and parents that aren't brain dead.

Life's a bitch.

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**Ahem...yes. Review? Please?**


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